Inside an underground chamber carved beneath the canyon, the remaining dical-nin of Sunagakure worked without pause.
Wounded shinobi were carried in continuously from the battlefield above.
Of the original seven dical-nin stationed in this sector, only three remained.
Their numbers had been cut by more than half.
Yuji was the youngest among them.
Yet he had naturally beco the one directing the operation.
When the other two encountered injuries beyond their experience, they instinctively called for him.
Despite the chaos, Yuji maintained order. He triaged quickly, prioritizing the wounded according to severity. Those with lighter injuries received rapid stabilization and were rotated out to rest. Those on the edge of death were assessed carefully to determine whether intervention would aningfully change the outco.
Several lightly injured shinobi who could still move assisted as temporary aides, fetching supplies and helping reposition patients.
Under Yuji’s direction, the dical post remained functional.
Above them, the canyon continued to burn.
Takuma had issued strict orders. The dical team was no longer permitted to leave the underground chamber. They were the last line of support. If anything happened to them, the casualty rate would spike beyond control.
Especially Yuji.
"Just hold on a little longer," so of the wounded muttered to one another. "Reinforcents from the village are on the way."
Those who recovered enough strength returned to the battlefield after brief rest.
Ti was all they needed to buy.
"Yuji."
A chunin approached him quietly.
"Commander Takuma asked to remind you not to push yourself. If you feel unwell, step back. You’re too important to risk."
Yuji looked up briefly from where he was channeling chakra into a deep abdominal wound.
"I’m fine," he said with a small smile.
It was now the second night.
The fighting had continued for nearly forty-eight hours.
Yuji had not slept.
He had already exchanged for both Mystical Palm Technique and Chakra Scalpel. However, due to limited chakra reserves, he had refrained from using Chakra Scalpel offensively. For most incisions, he relied on his physical scalpel to conserve energy.
Fortunately, his enhanced physical conditioning allowed for slightly faster chakra recovery.
Chakra was, at its core, the fusion of physical and ntal energy. The stronger the body and the steadier the mind, the better the recovery.
Even so, Mystical Palm Technique consud far more chakra than he had anticipated. As an A-rank dical ninjutsu, it required intense and sustained control.
Treating two critically injured patients in succession already strained him.
He understood now, more clearly than ever, the importance of chakra volu.
If he possessed reserves comparable to a Jinchuriki, stabilizing dozens of wounded would not be difficult.
Instead, he rationed himself carefully.
The chunin ssenger hesitated before leaving.
At first, most had only regarded Yuji as a talented dical genin. But the mont he began using Mystical Palm Technique on the battlefield, their perception shifted.
Very few in Sunagakure were capable of that level of dical ninjutsu.
Lady Chiyo was one of them.
Yuji’s age made it even more astonishing. The Academy did not teach such techniques. Advanced dical training was only granted after rigorous selection.
No one asked how he had learned it.
This was not the ti.
Without him, many lightly wounded shinobi would never have returned to combat. The line might already have broken.
News of the border battle had already reached Sunagakure. The higher-ups would inevitably hear of his performance.
Yet none of that mattered to Yuji at this mont.
His eyes were bloodshot, his hands trembled faintly between treatnts.
He knew his condition better than anyone.
He continued working not out of loyalty or duty. In his eyes, every wounded shinobi represented growth.
Experience.
A battlefield like this was rare. Once the conflict ended, who knew when such an opportunity would arise again?
Wasted potential was sothing he disliked.
"Make way!"
The shout cut through the underground chamber.
A Sand shinobi stumbled in, drenched in sweat, carrying soone on his back. His eyes scanned the room and locked onto Yuji imdiately.
The surrounding murmurs grew louder.
The figure on his back was Sasori.
"What happened?"
"An Agakure Jonin," the man replied grimly.
The infiltrating forces had not been overwhelmingly powerful individually, but their numbers had compensated. And among them were commanders.
Just as Sunagakure had Takuma.
Even if village standards differed, the title of Jonin ant sothing. Even a diocre Jonin was far beyond the reach of most genin.
Sasori was exceptional, but he had already fought continuously for nearly two days. Facing a fresh Jonin under those conditions left little room for victory.
Survival alone was remarkable.
Yuji stepped forward imdiately.
Compared to the enemies Yuji had faced, Sasori’s opponents had been on a different level. Most of those Sasori eliminated were elite units.
"Lord Takuma, to protect him..." the shinobi began, hesitating.
Yuji had already begun examining Sasori.
There were deep cuts along his side and shoulder. Blood loss was significant, but the wounds were clean. No signs of internal collapse.
Not fatal.
He did not know whether this particular border clash had occurred in the original tiline. He knew the broad structure of the Second Shinobi World War, but not every engagent.
If his presence had caused so deviation...
That was dangerous.
Sasori was not just a prodigy of the village, he was central to Yuji’s future plans.
Nothing could happen to him.
"He’ll live," Yuji said calmly.
He began treatnt at once, channeling Mystical Palm Technique with careful control. The green glow illuminated the dim chamber as torn muscle fibers began to knit together.
The room gradually quieted.
Then...
A familiar chanical tone sounded in his mind.
[The host has successfully treated a plot-significant character for the first ti. Bonus reward unlocked: 200 experience points.]
’Huh?"
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